Broken.

I hate me. I hate the way i think, the way i judge my every movement, the way my fumbling hands wreak havoc on everything they touch. I hate the way i feel every second of ever day, the way i look, the way my short, fat body maneuvers itself, and the way my deformed, hideous face contorts into expressions that allow the world to easily read me like an open book. I hate how the only thing i can seem to find any solace in is the slick, fine edge of a friendly razor against my all too willing skin. I hate myself for being such a stupid fuck up. 

I'm a miserable excuse for a human being and will never, ever prove myself to be anything but just that. I can never be happy, it's repulsive. It's become utterly hopeless to dream of any kind of life for myself beyond graduation, if that. I draw a blank every time i try to think of my "future", and have convinced myself that i won't live to see the age 19. I'm a pathetic piece of nothing who deserves to slowly rot to ruined trash just like my broken heart. I'm even disgusted that i have the nerve to sit here and continue to type this pitiful excuse for a blog, i am merely drowning in self-pity and complaining, but i need to vent, and thats what the dumb posts are for.